Alexander (5)

5

It was six fifty-five in the evening when Terry pulled onto the Co-op car park. Alexander offered Luther a courteous ‘I'll see you tomorrow’ but received nothing in return. As Luther wandered off Alexander said: ‘Luther! You may not like me but the least I expect is the courtesy of being answered.’

Luther stopped. For a moment Alexander thought he was going to walk over and plant one of his hairy fists in his face. Instead, Luther looked Alexander in the eye and said: ‘I apologize. Have a safe journey home.’

‘I haven't got a home’ said Alexander in a sudden flurry of emotion. ‘I've been sleeping beneath the viaduct. Perhaps I won't even be able to make it to work in the morning.’

Luther stood, his head bowed. ‘Come with me’ he said. Alexander followed.

He took Alexander to the small semi-detached house where he lived. Alexander noted the threadbare carpet, the noxious smell of damp and dry rot, the stained kitchen floor linoleum which, in some areas, was badly torn, revealing a dark concrete floor. They climbed the narrow staircase. But it was the door of the room next to Luther’s that they stopped in front of. Luther knocked and called out the surname of his neighbour, Padgett. After a moment the door opened, revealing an emaciated figure with dark rings round his eyes, wearing a t-shirt and a pair of colorful Bermuda shorts. Padgett, seeing that his neighbour wasn’t alone, said that he wasn't feeling his best. Luther snorted, as if he'd heard it all before.

‘This lad needs somewhere to sleep’ said Luther, jabbing his thumb in the direction of his bemused work colleague.

Padgett disappeared into his room. Alexander heard a drawer open and the sound of assorted keys. Then Padgett reappeared and handed Luther a bunch. ‘Take him to number 135. He might get a week out of it.’

Luther escorted Alexander to another house further along the road. The house was empty, devoid of any furnishings. Luther showed Alexander into the living room and told him he could stay until new residents moved in - a family was due to take over the lease at the end of the month. He also said he'd need to give Padgett some cash for each night that Alexander stayed. The room would have to be cleared by morning in case plans changed and the family moved in earlier. It was important that the housing agent didn't know anything about the arrangement.

Alexander took two notes out of his rucksack and handed them to Luther. Luther said that Alexander wouldn't be able to keep hold of the key in case the agent called Padgett in the morning, needing access. Alexander thanked him and said he’d post it through the letterbox of Luther’s house. The older man nodded and let himself out.

Alexander spread his sleeping bag on the bare floorboards and made up a bed as best he could. It would be just as uncomfortable as sleeping beneath the viaduct but at least it was quieter and he had a proper roof over his head. If he was able to stay for a week or so maybe that would give him enough time to find somewhere more secure.

Before he slept Alexander took out his notebook and began to write down the day's events. He wrote about the manor house – the fading grandeur of its architecture, and the odd fairytale turrets. And he wrote a description of the Brook family - a handsome English family, related, perhaps, to royalty. The head of the household, he decided, was a dashing ex-army officer, his lady wife an educated woman who wrote romantic novels and engaged in charitable enterprises. They probably had two children, a boy and a girl, both of whom would be exemplary in every way. Finally, he wrote about the strange ship that stood in the garden – listing and forgotten and weatherbeaten on the grass.

His eyes began to feel heavy. What was the ship for ? Why had it been left in such a pitiful condition ?

There were simply too many questions that needed answering. Alexander closed his notebook and drifted into sleep.